


the sunset's longer

by snsk



Series: phan week [8]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Phan Week, proposal fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>day eight: wildcard day! (spoiler alert: it's proposal fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sunset's longer

At eighteen, Dan falls for a persona on the Internet, a teenage fantasy come true. And then he gets to know Phil, who is decidedly not. A fantasy, that is.

Phil, who steals all of Dan's snacks in the middle of the night, even the ones he's bought specially for guests. Phil, whose lens case is on the tap at a ridiculous angle every single morning when Dan comes in to brush his teeth. Phil, who is clumsy in a way that is mostly endearing and sometimes a very real danger to himself, and Dan worries enough, thanks very much. Phil, who is currently not speaking to Dan, as Dan had refused to stop at the popcorn place Phil had wanted to go to on the grounds that they didn't have time and they already _had_ plans.

"I know it's stupid," Phil had said, twenty minutes ago, "but we always stop at the places you wanna go and I'm tired and jetlagged and for once I wanted to forget about the time and go eat some expensive gourmet popcorn. So I'm going to sulk now." 

Now they're in a cab, and he's got his arms folded and his earphones on and is doing exactly as he'd told Dan he would, and Dan sighs. He pulls an earphone out.

"Phil, your mum's on her way over," he says. "She's gonna see us all fight-y."

"Hmph," is Phil's answer. He puts the earphone back in. 

"Alright then, Mr Grump," Dan says, and hopes Phil just has the earphones in for show and isn't playing any music and heard exactly what he said.

The driver pulls up at their flat. 

"Eight fifty," he tells Dan, and Dan reaches for his wallet, his fingers brushing against keys and velvet. Phil clambers out after him and heads up the stairs first, with an athleticism he only displays when he's trying to avoid Dan, apparently.

They are sort of running late, so Dan changes quickly into good slacks and a dark blue shirt Phil once said was nice and business-y. Phil, for his part, has set the table, is tidying up their lounge, and is still refusing to look at Dan. Dan's just got the mussels in the oven and the dressing over the salad when the doorbell rings.

"Dan," Phil calls, and opens the door.

The first time Dan had met Phil's mum, she'd cooed over his dimple and asked him how he felt about flamingo milk. It'd been easy to see where Phil had inherited his offbeat train of thought, his way of looking you in the eye and making you feel like you had something worth to say. She kisses her son on the cheek, now, and wraps her arms around Dan. "Hello, dear. I'm sure you've gotten _taller."_

"I'm not sure that's possible," Dan says, smiling at her. "I'm twenty-four."

"I'll get your coat, Mum," Phil says, removing it from her person. "I'm not talking to Dan, by the way, he wouldn't let me get popcorn." He goes squinty-eyed at Dan, though, so Dan knows he's pretty much over it.

"Oh, Phil," she says, "stop being ridiculous." Phil leads her to the lounge, and Dan goes back to the kitchen to check on the food, but he barely has time to look at dessert, cooling in the fridge, when Martyn and Cornelia turn up. Cornelia's wearing a beanie, pulled down low.

"Oh, no, I'm not taking it off," she tells them. "My new haircut is hideous."

"I think it's cute," Martyn says loyally.

"You're supposed to say that," she sniffs.

This time Phil follows Dan into the kitchen. He leans against the counter and says, "Alright. I'm done sulking."

"I appreciate that," Dan says. "I shouldn't have so easily dismissed you wanting to do a thing. We _do_ always do my things. Can we go tomorrow?"

"Yes," Phil says, and he hands Dan a smile that makes Dan reconsider him as a real person, wonder again about this made-up fantasy theory, on a daily basis. He reaches over and kisses Dan hard, briefly, a gesture that's not rare per say, but not something they do often. He leaves Dan dizzy. And then he goes back to their lounge to entertain his family.

Martyn loves the salad. The baked mussels go over spectacularly. Phil's mum grills Dan about his Christmas plans, how his mum's doing, Phil's eating habits in America. Phil and Martyn and Cornelia talk vague shop, the weather, Martyn and Cornelia's neighbour who has a nude-while-pottering-around-his-garden problem. 

Dan's always loved this family, how they've always made him feel welcomed and wanted. How they insist they come home for Easter, how Phil's grandmother cooks him his favourite dishes and won't let anyone else pick the programme they watch. Phil catches his eye, grins at him from where he's sitting at their dining table, and Dan reaches in his pocket, just for the assurance it's there, and realises he changed when they came back.

When everybody's hugged goodbye, and Phil's family close the door behind them, and Dan and Phil have finished washing and cleaning up, Dan goes up to his room, rummages through his pants, which he could've sworn he left on the floor. He rummages. And continues rummaging.

"Looking for something?"

Phil's standing in the dorrway, turning the inconspicuous velvet box over in his hand. Dan freezes.

"Were you planning on proposing tonight?" Phil asks, all calm.

Dan unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth to answer.

"No?" he says. "Maybe. I don't know when. I've been carrying it around for two weeks."

"For the right time?"

"Yeah," Dan says. "How'd you-"

"Well, I was planning to do laundry, to low-key apologise for sulking," Phil says, still infuriatingly composed. If Dan could read what he was really feeling now, it'd be a huge help, thanks very much. "I came across this strange and hidden object. Here you go." He tosses it to Dan, who automatically catches it. "Oh and fyi, Dan, when you find the right time, I'm _thinking_ of probably definitely saying yes. Just so you know."

He knocks his fist on the doorframe, nods at Dan, and turns to stroll down the hallway, and he doesn't look back until Dan says, "Phil, you ass," upon which he turns back into the room and laughs and laughs until Dan wraps his arms around his neck, swallows the sound with his lips, and laughs right along with him, relieved, ecstatic, loved.

Anyway - _tl:dr,_ Dan's brain helpfully supplies - Dan falls for an Internet persona, a fantasy; videos through a screen, words on his timeline. He falls in love with Phil Lester, all of Phil Lester, him and his wonderful family too, the clumsy, horrible-with-jetlag, fully flawed _ass_ of a fiancé who basically stole Dan's engagement ring and gave Dan a heart attack.

Yeah.

He's never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> WOW can't believe i did it u can find me on tumblr link is in profile 
> 
> also this was for phanweek on tumblr hit THEM up


End file.
